


Love Sick

by casbuddy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day, cas is sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbuddy/pseuds/casbuddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don’t like this,” Cas complains, nuzzling his face against Dean’s t-shirt and probably wiping snot on there. <br/>Yeah, this really isn’t what Dean had been planning for their first valentine’s day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Sick

Dean has never been one to acknowledge holidays, let alone celebrate them. Least of all freaking  _valentine’s_   _day_. But here he is, awake at nine in the morning just so he can put together a valentine’s breakfast with fucking heart shaped toast.

It’s all Cas’ fault. On their weekly shop, a curious Cas had dragged Dean to the stand of glittery hearts and other vomit inducing stuff, asking him all about the day and what it entailed. Being the usual tactful (yeah right) Dean, he had told Cas it was a shitty holiday that was there to try and guilt trip people in relationships to buy things for their partner and to also make single people feel like shit because they’re all alone. When Cas had hummed in agreement and let himself be steered towards the cereal aisle, Dean had thought that was the end of it.

But then over the coming weeks, Dean had caught Cas countless times eyeing up anything that was related to valentine’s day, gaze lingering a little too long for it to be a coincidence. Cas had probably thought he was being subtle but there was nothing freaking subtle about Dean walking in on him watching a freaking craft show on how to make personal valentine’s day cards with wide, interested eyes.

And fuck, Dean had realised right there that he was going to have to celebrate valentine’s day after all.

Which led him to this, walking carefully back to their room with a tray full of croissants, pancakes and waffles, enough to probably feed a small freaking army. For fucks sake, Dean has even plonked a flower in a glass and put that on the tray to try and make it look more romantic. Well, the flower might actually be a weed for all Dean knows but it looks pretty and it’s the thought that counts okay?

He opens the door to their bedroom with his hip and automatically smiles at the sight before him. While Dean has been gone, a sleeping Cas has sprawled over to Dean’s side of the bed, hand clutching out. The covers are drawn up to his chin, hair in the constant disarray that it’s always in after a night’s sleep. From where Dean is standing he can just about catch the frown on Cas’ face, his forehead wrinkled, eyebrows furrowed.

“Morning sunshine,” Dean calls out cheerily as he shuts the door behind him with his foot.

The only reply he gets is a grunt and then Cas is burrowing further into the covers, only his hair on show now as he curls himself up under the comforter.

Dean rolls his eyes, though it’s not like he’d expected any other reaction than this because Cas is a shit morning person and it’s telling as to how much he loves the guy in that Dean finds it adorable rather than annoying.

Dean avoids the clothes strewn on the floor from last night and makes his way to the bed, balancing the tray on one arm so he can run a hand through Cas’ unruly hair, “Come on baby, I’ve brought you breakfast in bed.”

Cas’ head pops up at that, rubbing at his eyes adorably as he slowly sits up. Blearily, he opens his eyes and Dean’s smile falters a little when he notices how bloodshot they are. Cas’ gaze focuses on the breakfast tray for all of five seconds before his face turns an interesting shade of green and he’s running to the bathroom with a hand covering his mouth.

Okay, so not exactly the reaction Dean had been expecting.

Quickly, he drops the tray of food on their bedside table before following Cas into their ensuite, just managing to get there in time to watch Cas spew his guts out into the toilet. Dean kneels next to him and rubs the small of Cas’ back in comfort as Cas makes the worst heaving noises possible.

After Cas has seemingly finished vomiting, he instinctively leans into Dean, head resting against Dean’s chest as he mumbles, “Dean, I’m dying.”

Dean snorts because of course Cas has to be a drama queen about this, “You’re not dying Cas, you’re just sick.”

“Dying,” Cas repeats with a sniff, his nose stuffy.

“You just have the flu,” Dean rolls his eyes affectionately, “Now come on, let’s clean you up and then you’re going straight back to bed.”

“Okay,” Cas says pitifully.

Dean flushes away the evidence before turning his attention to Cas, hooking an arm around his waist and pulling him up to stand before Dean forces him to clean his mouth out. With a damp cloth, Dean washes Cas’ face, cleaning away the sweat that has formed from the puking session, frowning when he feels how warm Cas’ forehead is.

“Dean,  _cold_ ,” Cas whines, shivering.

Dean presses a kiss to his dampened hair before leading him back to the bed, depositing him there as he rummages around their chest of drawers looking for Cas’ favourite pyjamas. He finds them stuffed in the back, a plain powder blue t-shirt with trousers that have tiny swallows covering them. He hands them over to Cas, throwing the comforter over him when Cas has dressed himself.

“Dean,” Cas’ hands peek out of the covers, making grabby motions.

Dean places a soothing hand to Cas’ hair, gently massaging Cas’ temple with his thumb, “Hang on Cas, I’m just going to go get you some meds, they should help you feel a little better, take some of the shit away.”

“My throat hurts,” Cas agrees with shut eyes, “And my nose is blocked and my head hurts and  _Deaaan,”_  Cas elongates his name with a whine and Dean should have known that Cas would be the whiny, overdramatic kind of ill person, desperate for everyone to understand how shit he really feels.

“I know baby,” Dean leans down to kiss Cas’ forehead, “I’m going to go get you some stuff to take some of that away, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry,” Cas commands before letting out a wretched cough and hiding himself under the covers with a groan.

As quickly as possible, Dean throws on some clothes before he makes his way to kitchen, grabbing everything that they have to help anything flu related- headache tablets, cough medicines, even throat lozenges because he knows Cas is going to want it all for his first time being ill as a human. And of fucking course, the first time he has to be sick, it not only has to be the freaking  _flu_ rather than just a cold but it also just has to happen on fucking valentine’s day.

“Here Cas,” Dean says when he’s back in the bedroom, pulling Cas up to a seating position to force him to drink a glass of water with some flu medication. Dean swallows down some pills that are supposed to prevent you from getting it in the first place because he has a feeling Cas isn’t going to let him out of his sight and Dean really doesn’t want to get sick too thank you very much.

After Cas has drunk a fair amount of water, Dean lets himself be pulled down to lie next to Cas, a too warm ex-angel throwing himself on him as soon as Dean is under the covers. Figuring that he’s going to be stuck here for a while, Dean lets himself get comfortable, wrapping an arm around Cas’ waist, his free hand nestling in Cas’ hair to try and smooth it down.

“Don’t like this,” Cas complains, nuzzling his face against Dean’s t-shirt and probably wiping snot on there. Yeah, this really isn’t what Dean had been planning for their first valentine’s day.

* * *

 

When Cas is snoring into his chest like a frigging fog horn, Dean gently tunnels out from under Cas, wrapping the comforter around Cas’ body quickly to not let any cold air in. With a quick kiss to Cas’ clammy forehead, Dean grabs the tray of abandoned food and takes himself and his rumbling stomach to the kitchen, desperate for something to eat.

What he finds is Sam placing candles and two sets of fancy plates on the dining table, meticulously ensuring the entire cutlery is perfectly parallel to each other. It’s only then that Dean remembers that he’d asked Sam to find out the deluxe cutlery and shit so Dean could make the meal he was planning to cook for Cas extra special.

“Hey,” Dean says tiredly, making his way to the bin and throwing his now stale breakfast into the bin.

“Hey,” Sam smiles cheerily, obviously not noticing Dean’s mood, “I’m just setting the table for you guys like you asked and then I’ll be out of your hair and you can have the place to yourselves to,” Sam wrinkles his nose, “do whatever the hell you want.”

“Thanks,” Dean gives him a weak smile as he grabs some food from the fridge, “But you needn’t have bothered.”

“What?” Sam frowns, his gaze finally leaving the perfectly straight knives and forks in front of him, “Why?”

Dean sighs, “Cas is sick.”

“Sick?” Sam asks, his eyebrows furrowing further.

“Yep, he’s got the flu,” Dean explains with another sigh because the table looks fucking perfect and he knows Cas would have loved the surprise and now it’s fucked because Cas is too sick to have a fancy valentines dinner.

“That sucks man,” Sam says sympathetically, and then his lips quirk up, “How’s he handling it?”

“What, being ill?” Dean rolls his eyes affectionately, “Really, really shittily. He’ll wake up, cough a lot, then bitch about the fact that he’s sick and do the whole ‘ _why did it have to happen to me?_ ’ act and then he’ll drop off back to sleep. And then an hour later he’ll do it again but he’ll be even more dramatic.”

Sam laughs good naturedly, “Poor guy. It is his first time being sick though, you’ve got to give him some slack.”

“Hey, I am,” Dean retorts, “I’m being the perfect boyfriend and looking after him. This is the first time I’ve left him since this morning and it’s only because I’m fucking starving.”

“Is he not eating?” Sam asks, moving towards Dean to steal a chip.

“He gave one glance to breakfast this morning and chucked up his guts,” Dean bats Sam’s hand away, “Of course, he couldn’t just have a freaking cold, he had to have the full blown flu with a nice added extra of vomiting. He’s never been one to do things half assed,” Dean blows out a tired breath, “It sucks though, why couldn’t he have been ill another day instead of today?”

Sam pulls a face, “Why does it bother you so much? I mean, yeah, it’s shitty that Cas is sick for the first time, I get that. But you have never given a shit about valentine’s day before besides the fact that you used to use it as a ploy to get girls to sleep with you. Even when you were actually dating someone, you still didn’t give a shit about it.  So why do you care so much now?”

“Cas cared,” Dean explains, “He cared about this stupid fucking holiday for some reason and I guess-” Dean shrugs, cheeks reddening a little as he admits, “I guess after a while I started to care too, y’know? The more I thought about spending a day spoiling Cas, the more I liked the idea okay?” Dean sighs, “But of fucking course, luck, as always, is not on our side and has fucked it all up,” he bites back a smile, “He does look kind of adorable with his red nose and puppy eyes though.”

Sam grins and Dean can sense the oncoming doe eyes that his little brother always gets when Dean so much as references to how much he loves his stupid fucking blue eyed boyfriend. Mercifully, Sam is interrupted before he can say any embarrassing shit because Cas appears at the door. The thinner comforter is wrapped around his shoulders, Cas clutching it like his life depends on it with a disgruntled expression on his face that is normally only reserved for early mornings. His nose is even redder than earlier, cheeks pink as he focuses his gaze on Dean.

“Cas,” Dean drops the bag of chips onto the counter, rushing to Cas like a fretful hen, “You should be in bed.”

“I woke up and you were gone,” Cas sniffles, eyes roaming over to the set up dining table, “What’s- What’s going on?”

Dean pushes the hair stuck to Cas’ forehead back as he wraps an arm around Cas’ waist to steady him, “I was going to surprise you and make you a valentine’s dinner but it doesn’t matter, we’ll do it another time.”

Cas’ wide eyes look into Dean’s, “You were-” a coughing fit interrupts his speech for a good minute before he adds, “You were going to make me a valentine’s dinner?”

Dean smiles softly, “Yeah but it can wait another day when you’re not coughing up your lungs, okay?”

Cas’ face crumples into a frown, “Okay.”

“Come on beautiful, let’s get you back to bed,” Dean kisses Cas’ hair.

“O-okay,” Cas sniffs, leaning into Dean. Dean gives a half-hearted wave to Sam before guiding Cas out of the kitchen and into the hallway, travelling at a snail’s pace for Cas benefit.

Cas tips his head to lean on Dean’s shoulder as he mumbles, “You said that you didn’t celebrate valentine’s day.”

“Yeah I know,” Dean replies, squeezing Cas’ waist.

“You said it was a stupid holiday,” Cas adds.

“I know,” Dean repeats.

“You said that people who celebrated it were idiots who were-”

“I know I did but you changed my mind, okay?” Dean interrupts with a huff, “You think I didn’t notice that you were staring at every freaking valentine’s stand in every freaking shop?”

“Oh,” Cas breathes out and then sneezes, his face scrunching up in such a cute way that should not be freaking legal, “You were- You were doing this for me?”

“’Course I was you idiot,” Dean smiles, nudging Cas with his hip.

Cas’ face lights up and for one very small moment, he doesn’t look miserable but then his face goes bone white and he forces them to a standstill as he shuts his eyes, jaw clenched.

“What’s wrong Cas?” Dean wraps his other arm around Cas’ waist, holding him steady, “Dizzy?”

“Mm,” Cas hums in agreement, slowly opening his eyes but he looks a little freaked out.

“Hey, you want me to carry you the rest of the way?” Dean offers because dammit, all of his plans for their day may have gone out the window but he wants to try and make their valentine’s day not  _too_ much of a car crash and if carrying Cas back to their room will put even the slightest of a smile on Cas’ face, he’s going to fucking do it.

“Okay,” Cas says hoarsely.

“Okay,” Dean repeats, hooking an arm under Cas’ knees, the other around his shoulders before slowly picking him up. He keeps still for a moment as Cas gets used to the sudden movement but when Cas presses his nose against Dean’s neck, Dean sees that as a signal to start moving.

“Jesus Cas, you’re a little heavy,” Dean half jokes, “I’ve never realised how far our bedroom is from the kitchen before.”

Cas pokes him in the chest, “You carry me to our bedroom all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s different because we’re about to have sex,” Dean explains with a snort, “I’ve got all the adrenaline and shit running through me then.”

Cas huffs into his neck in a way that implies he thinks Dean is being an idiot but Dean doesn’t care because it’s gotten him to smile.

* * *

 

For all of half an hour, Dean leaves a snoring, sniffling Cas to go have dinner. He expects that Cas will just sleep through it like he’s done pretty much the whole day and not even notice he’s gone. Even so, he still rushes his food in a way that makes Sam complain that he’s disgusting but Dean just gives him the finger, deposits his dish and cutlery in the sink before rushing back to their bedroom.

What he finds isn’t exactly what he’s expecting.

Cas’ pyjamas are piled messily next to the bed, the comforter pushed back as Cas lies in the middle of the bed, hugging his knees to his chest as he shivers. And oh yeah, is wearing red fucking lace panties.

“Cas,” Dean says slowly, shutting the door quickly behind him, “What are you doing?”

Cas’ eyes snap open and he quickly tries to stretch himself out on the bed which normally would look totally attractive to Dean if it wasn’t for the fact that Cas is still shivering and snot is pouring out of his nose like freaking lava.

“Babe?” Dean asks.

Cas looks up at him miserably before curling himself back into a tight ball, “I bought these for-” Cas coughs roughly, “For valentine’s day. You said that you didn’t like the holiday but I thought- I thought you would like these so I- I bought them.”

Deans tumbles forward and pulls the comforter back over Cas, ignoring Cas’ feeble protests and then for good measure, he grabs the thinner comforter thrown over their chest of drawers and puts that over Cas too, “And you look gorgeous in them baby but you’ve got to keep warm right now okay?”

Cas makes a pitiful noise and hides under the covers, muttering, “I’ve ruined valentine’s day.”

Dean’s heart clenches and he quickly buries himself under the covers so he can wrap his arms around Cas and pull him close, “No you didn’t Cas.”

“I did,” Cas sniffs, letting his head fall onto Dean’s chest with a thud, “You- You made me breakfast and-” a sneeze interrupts him before he adds, “And you were going to make me dinner and I wanted it to be perfect and I wanted to show you how much I love you and- and I’ve ruined it all.”

“Hey, no, this isn’t your fault,” Dean tips Cas’ head up with a thumb under Cas’ chin so Cas has to look him in the eye, “You didn’t choose to be sick Cas. I know if you had a choice on the matter, you’d definitely rather not be coughing all over the place. It’s just a day Cas, that’s all,” Dean smiles softly and presses a kiss to Cas’ forehead, “I can make you a fancy dinner any day of the week, I don’t need some holiday for that. And,” Dean’s lips quirk into a smirk, “We definitely don’t need a holiday for you to wear panties.”

Cas manages a smile at that, bloodshot eyes softening as he bumps his nose against Dean’s jaw.

Dean kisses above Cas’ left eyebrow, “I’d choose you, even with all the snot, okay baby?”

With a little bit of effort, Cas moves upwards to press a slightly sloppy kiss to Dean’s mouth, murmuring, “I love you,” he kisses him again, “So much.”

“I know you do baby,” Dean kisses him again, momentarily forgetting about germs, “Love you too,” Dean grins, gently manoeuvring Cas’ head back onto his chest, “Now get some rest,” his fingertips trail down Cas’ back until they trace the lining of the red panties, “And I’ll just lie here and admire these panties on you some more.”

Cas shuffles on top of Dean, mumbling drowsily, already falling back asleep, “I bought you some to wear too.”

And if that isn’t something to look forward to, Dean doesn’t know what is.

 


End file.
